It Hurts So Much
by MyFantasyDreams
Summary: It's impossible for him to be so cruel with out reason. Right ?


**It Hurts So Much **

A tall, handsome boy with a deathly pale complexion, blue grey eyes and sliver blonde hair sat at the Slytherin table, he looked miserable as he gazed, unfocused at the untouched food on his plate and sighed deeply. Draco Malfoy stood up suddenly, knocking the plate sideways to his ever present croonies, 'should keep them busy for 5 seconds' he thought as he strolled out of the great hall with a cocky sneer plastered over his misery. 'Always keep a cool face.'

It was nearly Christmas and although it was pouring with rain and bitterly cold the spirit in the school was gleeful, expectant and irriatatingly high. There was a trip to Hogsmeade that day and everyone from 3rd year up was crammed into the Entrance Hall waiting happily for the horse-less carriages to take them to the town.

As Draco approached the entrance of the school a tall, bushy haired 5th year girl from Gryffindor came bolting out of the crowd shouting over her shoulder that she had forgotten her spare cloak. Hermione Granger crashed head-long into Draco knocking him into a group of buzzing 3rd years, who cushioned his fall.

"Sorry!!" she called over her shoulder as she hurried past, distracted.

Hesitating momentarily before he shouted back at her, "Look where you are going, Mudblood." Hermione turned back and glared at him, then continued round a corner and out of sight.

As Draco got to his feet, apolagising to the 3rd years, he saw two boys looking daggers at him, a tall, lanky, red-head with freckles, and an equally tall, black haired boy with glasses, Ron Weasley and Harry Potter, both were Gryffindor 5th year students and Draco's sworn enemies since first year.

Harry glowered venomously at Draco and growled "Watch your tongue Malfoy" before sending a hex in Draco's direction. The Slytherin ducked just in time and the spell harmlessly hit a suit of armour further down the corridor.

Draco turned away and sighed, 'Why is life so damn difficult?' he thought as he pulled a list out of his pocket and added the word 'Diary ' to it, then headed towards his fellow Slytherins knowing they would cheer him up, if only temporarily.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Later that day Draco arrived back at the Slytherin tower, in a slightly more positive mood, laden with bags and boxes of presents for friends and family, and sweets and tricks for himself. He sat for a while in the common room talking to some girls for but soon go bored of their annoyingly constant attention and made an excuse to get away. He picked up his bags and dragged them up to his dormitory. His croonies Crabbe and Goyle where there, Malfoy, knowing there love for food, told them the dinner was being served an hour early and they soon ran out of the room. 'Stupid twits ' he thought locking the door 'they'd fall for anything if food was involved'.  
Relived at finally being alone he went over to his bed and emptied some of the bags out onto his bed.

He saw what he wanted. The Diary. He placed it carefully to one side on his pillow, shoved the rest off his bed into his trunk then slammed the lid shut, pushing it under his bed. He stood up and reached for a book bag, fished out a quill and a pot of ink and chucked them on his pillow beside the diary. He pulled out his wand and the bag vanished with a quiet 'pop'.

Draco curled up on his bed pulling the green and silver hangings shut around him, shutting out the outside world, and sat staring at the Diary as if hypnotised by it. It was plain, a simple leather bound Diary no different from any other that fits the description and it was perfect. Draco snapped out of his trace and then opening the pot of ink he started writing.

~*~*~*~*~

_18th Dec 1995___

_Dairy,__  
__My name is Draco Malfoy, I am 15 years old and in my 5th year at Hogwarts School of Witch-craft and Wizardry. I would be very happy if it weren't for one thing….. I'm contemplating suicide!!! but even that sounds too jokey- - - - - Why ?? My Father- - - - I'll Explain.__  
__In my first year I was happy, friendly and content, cocky, confident and loud also, ok so I might have been a bit mean to Ron Weasley because of bad history between our families and Hermione Granger because she was muggle-born .......and Harry Potter because, well nothing really, other than for some reason my father hates him. But I still think we could have got on Ok maybe even been friends. Yeah, yeah, I know that Slytherins and Gryffindors aren't supposed to get along - but so what? Why can't we all be friends and all be united or something? Break the mould? Isn't that what Dumbledore says every time he does a speech? Isn't that what the sorting hat always says? Anyway then at the beginning of my second term, still in first year, my father found out how I had been thinking, how i'm not sure but still, he did and he was furious.__  
__He threatened me with many things the worst being that he'd hurt all the muggle-borns I knew or their families at least or that he'd disown me and not allow my family to communicate with me. I don't think I'd mind that to much though, I don't much like anyone in my family except Nymphadora Tonks my aunt, she was disowned by my family too, because she married a muggle-born wizard, and my father demanded that no one in our family communicate with her, but she still some how gets a card to me every birthday!!! Also Sirius Black, he is distantly related but he is in Azkaban for a murder he didn't commit, well I don't think he did . But sadly I can't go to either of them, as sadly they both think of me as a steriotypical, 'pure-blood' maniac, otherwise perfect Malfoy. ___

_My father wants me to be like him, he wants me to go into the 'family business' the year after next and become a Death eater like him, I couldn't stand that….. Never ...or so I thought .___

_I soon found out that my father was and still is very good at blackmail, as I said he threatened the lives of the muggle-borns parents. So of course that ruined my chance of building peace between all humans.__  
__He forced me to call all muggle-born witches and wizards mudbloods, I hate it, the look on their faces when they hear me calling them that is awful so sorrowful, so pleading.___

_I feel so miserable, I hate what is happening to me, what i am becoming. If I can't be who I need to be why should I 'be' at all, I can't change just because my father wants me too. I just have to put on a front and bear it. All I can hope is that by being cruel and unkind I can be kind by saving innocent lives, even if it does mean that they hate me so much, they avoid me like a plague.___

_I hate it, it hurts, it makes slow painful death seem like a walk in the park, but no I can't even do that, kill myself, if I did that my father would think I had tried to take the easy option and kill those I am trying to save. ___

_It's so unfair but then life is unfair too, I am forbidden to talk to anyone about this, I guess that writing is the next best thing and it seems to ease the pain, a little.___

_IT HURTS SO MUCH !! All I can do is hope that it is worth it…___

_~*~ Draco Malfoy ~*~_

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Draco slowly, carefully closed the diary and wiping his face on the sleeve of his robes, he smudged out the tear stains running down his cheeks. He took great care as he hid the book, transforming it into a beautiful, but ugly locket, bearing a snake and a rose, identical to the one he was wearing, and wore every day, he removed the real locket and clipped the 'diary-locket' around his neck. He placed his quill and ink on his bedside table, and then for a moment seemed lost. He held up his true locket and frowned sadly, remembering all the bad memories it held, then quickly hid it in a pillow case place under a loose floorboard.

Suddenly over come by a wave of emotion, he blew out the candle and slipped back in his bed sobbing. Sadness, grief, lonliness and lose welled up in his eye and once again tears fell down his face. As he wiped a final tear from his cheek, he fell into a disturbed sleep, uneasy, unhappy dreams weaving in and out of his mind.

Death and Death-eaters,

His father and feelings of fear.

His life over the last few years and right now.

Then finally, just a glimps, moments before waking, like the smallest, most delicate, moon-shine coloured flower, Hope.

'Yes.' Draco thought, smiling, his mind still clouded with sleep, 'There is still Hope.'


End file.
